Don't You Remember
by The Nutty One
Summary: During a night of passion, Klaus bites Damon. The next morning, Damon can only remember the Original's name. He denies everything that Klaus tells him, insisting that they were never together. But Klaus isn't about to lose his mate that easily. Slash. Non-graphic.


**AN: This is slash. Which means guy/guy. It's not too graphic, but you've been warned to I would appreciate it, if you didn't flame. Also, characters may be a little OOC. Thanks for reading!**

**Don't You Remember**

"Who ever knew it would come to this?" Damon murmured as he took his shot at the pool table. He pocketed two balls, one in the top left and one in the top right. He walked around the pool table, glancing quickly at each of the balls in turn. With his skills as a vampire, pool games were easy to win. He was quicker, smarter and altogether better than any human could be. Seeing the trajectory of each shot, sensing the power that was needed was all too easy to determine. But as he took his shot, he glanced up – distracted – and locked eyes with the dirty blonde haired vampire at the other side of the table.

Damon missed his shot.

"Come to what, love? Me beating you at pool? Or the two of us together," the other vampire said quietly, knowing he didn't need to speak loudly for the other to hear. He didn't bother to look at the pool table as he took his shot. Instead he allowed his gaze to drift over Damon's body. The leather jacket he wore was open, revealing a black shirt that left little to the imagination. His blue eyes sparkled as he lifted the glass of Bourbon to his lips. As he drank, his Adam's apple moved, tantalising and drawing Klaus' attention.

The sound of a ball being pocketed brought Klaus' attention back. He smirked at the younger vampire before lining up his next shot. He sank that one. And he sank the next.

Damon still hadn't answered his question. Klaus leaned against the pool table, his cue balanced in his right hand. They both waited. Finally, Damon placed his empty glass down. The sound was almost deafening to their hypersensitive hearing. "Both, but the latter is probably more surprising."

"Are you going to tell them?" It was a question they'd both asked, each of them wondering when it would be best to tell others. They both knew it would be dangerous. The only people who would accept it would be Elijah, and maybe Alaric. If anybody else found out… They both had enemies, Klaus more than Damon. Both of them, mostly Damon, would become a target to extract revenge on the other…

Klaus lined up another shot. It would have gone in had Damon not blocked its path with his own cue.

"You missed." He smirked and gestured to the bartender for another round of drinks. They compelled him to know their orders. And to allow them to drink way over the limit for humans. "No. We both know there are plans to kill you." Damon's voice became quiet at the end. "Stefan would only try and use me to get close to you. I don't want to pick between…" He trailed off with a shrug of his shoulders.

The bartender brought their drinks over. Klaus paid this time, insisting. "We could skip town," Klaus said, trying to be casual. There was a brief silence as Damon lined up his shot, giving the other a chance to rake his gaze over the younger vampire's body. Sensing eyes on him, Damon turned and winked. Seconds later, a ball was pocketed. "They don't have to know. I can kill anyone who tries to oppose us…"

"We've had this conversation before. The secret to kill an Original is out. Stefan and Elena would insist that you'd compelled me. They'd find Sage, or Katherine, or someone else who could find someone stupid enough to even try an attempt at your assassination."

"Assassination; it makes it sound so human. So easy." As he spoke, Damon pocketed another ball. And another. And another. "You worry too much, love." Damon barely glanced at him. When he pocketed the last ball, he straightened up.

"I win," Damon said quietly though there was no smugness in his voice.

**Don't You Remember**

Days passed. In that time, neither of them brought up that conversation again. Instead, they forgot about it – or at least, tried to. They continued how they had done for the four months prior. They continued to go to bars in New Orleans where Damon wouldn't be recognised. The vampires there would see him as Klaus's new play thing. The life there was too fast for anyone to pay much attention to them. They continued to feed together, both possessive over the other as well as their kills. Jealousy continued to flare in Klaus when Damon and Alaric would kill rogue vampires. They would continue to argue whenever Klaus would go looking for werewolves.

But they never mentioned that conversation.

The wall behind Damon cracked as he threw his head back, his eyes drifting shut. He whimpered as pleasure swelled within his body. The Original's hands bruised his hips, forcing them back against the wall and rendering Damon useless. Damon's hands came to thread through the dirty blonde hair that he loved so much. He forced himself to open his eyes and search for the brown ones that had caught his attention months ago. The grip he had in his hair was useless; if the elder wanted to break away and rise from his knees then he could do so easily.

They both knew who had control.

Damon moaned as the other continued to pleasure him. There was nothing that could compete. Over the centuries Damon had had many partners. He'd tried everything. He'd given everything. He'd received everything. He'd done everything imaginable. And probably a few things that weren't. But nothing could compete to this. Klaus had brought him to new heights. It had made him realise that everything in the past was amateur in comparison.

Nothing could match the touch of his mate.

At the time, neither had realised what they were to each other. Their first tryst had been fuelled by anger and seemed nothing more than a way to expel and exert dominance over the other. Of course, Klaus had won that. Both of them knew he would. The only thing that mattered was how long Damon would be willing to fight for it.

After that night, Klaus had sought him out. Continuously. That had been the first sign. In a vampire mating, the dominant would always seek out its mate. The first few times, Damon had refused and they'd fought. Growls had been exchanged and blood had been spilt. After that, Damon had run when he saw Klaus. He hated doing it, but he needed time away from the elder. Time the Original wouldn't allow him. When Klaus had caught him it had been brutal, all dominating and possessive.

After that, Damon had never bothered to fight again.

The bed creaked beneath their weight. Immediately the Original was on top of him, every contour of his body pressing against Damon's. Klaus' hands rested on either side of Damon's body. "I never thought I'd actually find my mate," Klaus murmured softly. "I always thought love was a vampires greatest weakness. After everything I've done, I didn't know if I actually deserved one."

Their lips pressed together, and Damon quickly relented. This wasn't the time for furious yet pointless fights for dominance. He bucked beneath Klaus, pressing them closer and his moan of ecstasy was muffled by other. "Everybody thinks that at least once in their life," Damon said. "But don't think about that now. Not when we have better things to do." Damon bit his lip and his eyes flickered down to the other's lips, only to see his own smirk mirrored there.

As Damon hitched his legs around the elder's waist, Klaus whispered: "you couldn't have put it better, love." Early on in their relationship, they'd both realised that no preparation was necessary. Damon loved and welcomed the burn: it made him feel claimed and possessed. When Klaus entered him, they both moaned and Damon's eyes fluttered shut once again.

They moved in unison, each chasing their own pleasure. There was nothing rushed about their coupling, nor was it dominating. In a way, they were equal. Everything around them began to melt away. Neither was worried about Klaus' siblings walking in. The thought of them was far from their minds.

As they were brought closer to the point of no return, Damon felt his fangs begin to lengthen. It was the reaction of having his mate so close. Above him, Klaus smirked but offered his neck willingly. Both of them gasped as Damon's fangs easily found their usual spot. The feel and taste of having the Original's blood in his mouth was almost enough. But it wasn't quite. The rush of blood in his body heated him for a few seconds. When he pulled away, he pressed bloodied lips to Klaus'. Tasting his own blood on his mate's lips made Klaus moan as he continued to move within Damon.

Seeing his lover lose control like that was the final straw. As they came together, Klaus' fangs lengthened. Normally they would be so careful to stop this reaction, but neither seemed to notice. He'd lost control completely. Damon's head was thrown back as he came, exposing the pale column of his neck.

Klaus sunk his teeth into Damon's neck.

Too caught up in each other and their own pleasure, neither vampire noticed.

**Don't You Remember**

Light streamed through the open curtains. Damon groaned and shielded his eyes with a hand. He didn't know why, but his head felt foggy and his limbs felt heavy. He opened one eye and checked his hand. The day light ring was still there. So the sun couldn't be affecting him. Swallowing thickly, Damon let his hand fall and he turned to the side to bury his head in the soft pillow. But he couldn't. Something stopped him from turning.

Frowning, he glanced down his body. An arm. An arm that wasn't his was slung over his hips. Who the fuck had he slept with last night? All his memories were blurry, some non-existent. Twisting as much as he could in the others grasp, Damon barely controlled the whimper when he saw who it was.

Niklaus Mikaelson.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Damon whispered, and his chest began to rise and fall rapidly. Had he slept with the enemy? Fuck! What would Stefan say? They'd all think he was a traitor! Again and again he tried to think over the previous nights. He could remember everything else. Elena choosing Stefan. Stefan's constant brooding and squirrel eating. Caroline and the werewolf.

Everything but Niklaus Mikaelson.

Panic overwhelmed him. He hadn't felt panic since he'd found out that Katherine wasn't in the tomb. But now he felt panicked. He struggled against the arm that held him, but it wouldn't budge. If anything, with every moment he struggled, his limbs became heavier and his mind became more and more unfocussed. What had happened to him? What the fuck had Klaus done to him?

Behind him, the Original moved. Damon tensed and stopped breathing. He didn't need to breath. The action just linked him back to being human. When the elder's hand began to roam his chest, Damon began to struggle once again.

Why couldn't he remember anything?

Why was he so weak?

"What's wrong, Damon?" The other vampire's voice was rough from sleep and Damon's heart thundered in his chest. Something told him to relax, that he was safe…but he didn't know why. So he struggled harder. "Damon, calm yourself!" But he couldn't. He needed out, and he needed out now. When Klaus wouldn't let go, Damon panicked further and allowed his fangs to lengthen.

Savagely, he bit into the arm that restrained him. When the elder vampire cried out in shock, Damon flitted to the other side of the room. He hadn't bit him long enough to feed, but Damon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand to catch any stray droplets. From across the room, he saw Klaus' tattered forearm begin to knit itself back together.

Damon quickly scanned the room and spotted his jeans only a few feet away from him. He grabbed them and pulled them on, no longer feeling quite so vulnerable under the Original's scrutiny.

"Damon, love, what's wrong? It's as if you don't know who I am." Klaus sat up in the bed and the covers pooled around his waist. Damon glanced away. He wasn't frigid – far from it. But he couldn't remember what had occurred last night. He couldn't remember what had made him climb into bed with the enemy.

At Klaus' words Damon blinked and looked back at the other with a black expression. "You're Niklaus Mikaelson." Maybe he could use the elder to piece together everything he couldn't remember? "Why am I here? What did you do to me?"

On the bed, Klaus frowned. "What do you remember? About me?"

"You're name. That's all."

Klaus felt the world give way beneath him. His mate couldn't remember him. And it looked as if Damon feared him. By the way the younger vampire looked at him, he was telling the truth. Damon couldn't remember him. The longer the silence stretched on, the quicker Damon's breathing became. But what could have made him forget?

And then he saw it.

A festering bite wound on Damon's neck – the exact same place where Klaus had bitten him only last night. Deep black veins spread from the open wound.

"I bit you," Klaus muttered softly, not quite believing it. They'd been so careful. They both knew the bite was poisonous. But neither knew the after effects. He watched as Damon raised a shaking hand to his neck. The blue eyes that he loved so much widened as Damon trailed his fingers over the mark. "You need my blood, Damon." When the vampire shook his head, Klaus stood from the bed, pulling on his discarded jeans as he did. "Damon, sweetie, listen to me." Every time he took a step towards him, Damon would take a step towards the door. "You need my blood," he growled, hoping that Damon's instincts would listen to his mate.

Instead, Damon bolted.

**Don't You Remember**

"I know it's not my place to ask, but who did you have over last night? They left in an awful hurry," Elijah mocked as Klaus came down the stairs. His older brother was stood in the doorway, in an impeccable suit as always, his hands in his pockets. "Were you really that bad?"

"Elijah you have no right to question me," Klaus growled lowly. Damon had left half an hour ago. In that time, he'd stood in his room, not quite believing that had just happened. "I could put you back in that coffin so easily."

Elijah raised his eyebrows. "Don't you think that threat is getting a little old, Nik?" His brother's cultured accent was so different from his own. Over the years they'd all tried to disguise their accents so no one could trace their origins easily. As a consequence, they'd all gained their own different accent. "I'm your brother, you can speak to me."

"Damon Salvatore," Klaus ground out. His mate flashed through his mind. But every good memory of him had been distorted by seeing him flee earlier. Every time he thought of Damon, he could see that fearful expression on his face.

"I guessed as much. What happened? By the panicked state he was in, I originally thought you'd compelled him."

Klaus only just bit back a snarl. Compel his mate? Take away Damon's free will? His fists clenched. "He doesn't remember me."

A frown marred his brother's face. "Wouldn't that be a good thing though? One less enemy for you to deal with?"

Hearing Elijah's words made Klaus snap. He turned on the nearest wall and punched it, causing cracks to appear and particles of plaster to fly into the air. Just standing still was becoming a challenge. Everything in him was screaming at him to find Damon, to track him down and dominate him again. All logical thought had fled when Damon had fled. Damon was his. And even though he'd lost him now, he'd be Klaus' again. "He was never an enemy."

"He meant something to you, didn't he? Damon Salvatore." Elijah chuckled and shook his head slowly. "Who would have known it would have come to this?"

Klaus felt his legs beginning to buckle and he gripped the wall for support. Those were the words that Damon had once said as they had mused about their relationship over a game of pool. In the end they had fooled no one. At least, Klaus hadn't fooled any of his family. "Do the others know?" He said weakly. When Elijah mad a move to reach for him, he held up his hand. "Do they?"

"It's obvious when a vampire has found its mate." Elijah looked at him with no sympathy. For that, Klaus was glad. Pity and sympathy wouldn't help him. "Though I doubt Damon's friends and Stefan will know. We both know they are all too concerned about Elena to notice the changes in Damon."

"I bit him," Klaus choked out. Beneath his grip, the wall began to crumble. Everything was becoming too much. His mate had just left. His mate didn't remember him.

Elijah shrugged. "He'll need your blood; otherwise he'll be dead by the end of the week. After that," Elijah raised his eyebrows and began to turn away. "Claim him again. Mark him as yours."

**Don't You Remember**

Damon stumbled through the door to the boarding house. On the way home, his vision had begun to blur and it had taken every ounce of his strength to put one foot in front of the other. Perspiration had begun to bead on his forehead and a migraine had developed.

Stefan and Elena looked up when he stumbled through the house. Just as his legs gave out, Stefan caught him.

"God, Damon! What's happened to you?" Elena exclaimed as she came around the couch to where Stefan was clutching him. Stefan ignored her as dragged Damon's limp body to the couch.

Lying down made it slightly better. But any movement made his head swim. To answer Elena's question, Damon shrugged and let his eyes fall shut. His entire body ached. His neck pulsed with the venom of Klaus' bite and every beat of his heart was painful.

"Elena," Stefan said quietly. "Go to the basement and bring two blood bags. It'll make him feel slightly better if nothing else."

Damon felt the air around them move as Elena left. Weakly he opened his eyes. Stefan's chocolate brown eyes stared back at him, or more precisely, the bite on his neck. "Where have you been, Damon?" There was nothing but sadness in his voice. "That's a werewolf bite," he stated.

"No shit, Sherlock," Damon tried to joke but he ended up coughing. After the wheezing fits had stopped he stared at Stefan, his eyes narrowed against the dim light. "Werewolf. I got into a fight." He was making the whole thing up. He didn't know what had happened. For all Damon knew, it could be true. "I was trying to find a way to kill Klaus." That sounded right. He could remember brooding over plans on how to kill the Original. "I got bitten."

"You won't give up, will you?" There was no anger in his brother's voice. Which was good. Damon doubted he could deal with all that nonsense. There was just a grim sadness that understood Damon's motivation. "I could speak to one of the Originals. Elijah, maybe? Or even Klaus? One of them may be able to speak to him, so he could give you his blood."

"No! No!" Damon spluttered and whimpered as a fresh torrent of pain lanced through his body. "Just leave me, Stefan. Maybe this is karma for all the shit I've caused you over the years."

A thick, blanketing silence enveloped them. Stefan never disagreed with Damon. But that was alright. Because they both knew that if Stefan had, then he would by lying.

When Elena came back with the blood bags, she handed them to Damon. She'd even overcome her squeamish nature and warmed them in the microwave. And there was even a bendy straw. Bless her.

They made no difference.

If anything the blood made it worse. The venom reacted with the fresh blood, and coursed through his body quicker than ever. He'd started to convulse on the couch and both Stefan and Elena and had stared at him in shock. Damon's vision had swum before his eyes. He'd sat up abruptly, inches away from grabbing Elena and draining her dry.

That was when Stefan had locked Damon in his bedroom.

**Don't You Remember **

Damon twisted unconsciously, the bed covers wrapped around his ankles. His hands clung to the bed sheet which ripped beneath his weakened grip. Sweat covered his face and his blue eyes were closed. Over the course of the day, the infected wound had spread. It covered the right hand side of his neck and the black veins of venom snaked around and down the wound.

He turned on his side as he coughed, expelling a dark foul smelling liquid. In his unconscious state, he groaned as the pain redoubled. A tear came from the corner of his eye as he curled in on himself in an attempt to escape the pain. Again he choked. His feet thrashed in the covers, wishing to be free of them.

_Damon sat on one of the bar stools at the Grill. In his hand he held a glass of cheap Bourbon. The bartender charged way too much for the cheap shit. But Damon downed it anyway. Elena had chosen Stefan. She always would. Damon would always be second best. He would be there to do the deeds that Saint Stefan couldn't. And then they would blame him, yell at him, and he'd pretend not to care. Reply back with a snarky comment. Maybe go for a drink or two with Ric. _

_ But Ric wasn't here. Damon had snapped his neck in a fit of rage. And now the damned history teacher wouldn't speak to him. But what was a snapped neck between a badass vampire hunting/drinking buddy team? Apparently it meant a lot. _

_ Damon ordered another drink. Downed that one too. And the next. When the bartender said he'd had enough, Damon compelled him. _

_ Someone else dragged a bar stool up to sit beside him. At first, Damon had thought it might be Ric. He ignored him, content to drown in his misery. For a moment Ric sat in silence. He ordered himself a drink. Normally when anything like this happened, neither would apologise. It would be a game of wits – to see which could ignore the other for the longest. _

_ "You look down, lovely. Care to tell?"_

_ That wasn't Ric. _

_ He turned his head and saw dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. A smirk that could rival his own. Damon didn't miss the way the others eyes roamed appreciatively along his body. Everything came rushing back to him. Elena chose Stefan. Ric hated him. Judge-y hated his species. They needed to kill Klaus. That wasn't going to happen. Elena chose Stefan. Ric hated him… Fuck it. _

_ "I'd rather show you." Another smirk. The elder vampire raised his eyebrows. Damon glanced at the door. "Mine or yours?"_

He wasn't aware of it, but Damon was mumbling in his sleep. Hallucinations – or memories, he couldn't decide which – plagued him. His body ached for Klaus, not just for his blood, but to be able to have his mate so close again. Despite lacking the memories, Damon's body was still aware of how close it needed to be to Klaus. Even if, consciously, Damon didn't know it.

**Don't You Remember **

Klaus stood in the corner of Damon's room, the shadows hiding his form. He had watched his mate, trapped in hallucinations, with the desolate acceptance that maybe this was it. Maybe this was karma? But he quickly squashed that thought. He always got what he wanted, no matter how difficult the challenge was. And he wasn't going to give up on Damon.

He heard the younger vampire whimper on the bed and soft cry came from Damon as he curled into himself further. Seconds later his body was racked with coughs. "Klaus…" he muttered, his voice harsh and rough.

When they had finally realised they were mates, Klaus had granted Damon his own privacy. He wouldn't go into the other vampire's mind, even if Damon was asleep at the time. Damon's thoughts would be his own unless he wanted them to be open to Klaus. But Damon wasn't in his right mind. He wouldn't even remember making the agreement…

So Klaus broke it. He delved into Damon's mind and past the barriers of protection that the vampire had set up. It shouldn't have been so easy. But the vampire was weak from the bite. What Klaus saw made him hope. Damon was reliving their memories – or more to the point, the first time they met when they hadn't been trying to kill each other.

Klaus remembered that night well. He'd gone to the Grill with the intention to feed but had gotten side tracked when he'd seen the elder Salvatore drowning in Bourbon. They exchanged little words and then they'd been in the alley behind the Grill. And then in Damon's car. And eventually, to a small run down cabin in the middle of the woods. After that, one thing had led to another.

The dream took a turn and Klaus reluctantly retreated from Damon's mind. It had gone towards the time when they were in the cabin, and Klaus had finally asserted his dominance over the younger vampire. As much as he wanted to see Damon's thoughts during that time, it wasn't fair. But he still needed answers.

As reluctant as he was, he went into Damon's mind again, bypassing the memory of the two of them and their first shared night. Instead he dove deeper into Damon's mind, his intent being to try and find the memories that Damon couldn't remember. What he came across confused him. It was a mental block – the same sort that victims off horrific crimes sometimes unconsciously made to prevent flashbacks. Damon had one of those…

Which meant Damon would need time to recover. If he recovered at all.

Another cough made Damon's body convulse. It brought Klaus from Damon's mind. For a moment he glanced over his mate's sweat covered face. Even in the dim light and so ghastly ill, he was still beautiful. Klaus stepped from the shadows of the room and raised his wrist to his mouth. His fangs tore through his skin easily, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.

He sat down on the bed beside Damon. With his uninjured arm, he pulled Damon up into a sitting position. All of Damon's body was drenched in sweat and his shirt stuck to him. Thankfully, the younger vampire didn't wake. For a moment he carded his hands through Damon's wet hair. He wouldn't admit it to anyone – not even Damon when all this was over – but he missed this. Klaus missed the feeling of having Damon in his arms. He missed the snarky comments the vampire would give him. He missed everything about the other.

Klaus pressed his bleeding wrist to Damon's mouth. The effect was immediate. Damon's eyes sprang open, more alert than ever since he'd forgotten his mate. His hands came up to try and pry Klaus' wrist away. Damon's long fingers curled around his forearm but were uselessly weak. The Salvatore struggled against the Original's grip and whimpered and blood rushed into his mouth.

He tried to twist his head away, but soon Klaus had a hand in his hair, forcing his head to stay in one place. "Shh, Damon, it's only me. Don't panic. It'll all be over soon." The voice was all too familiar and Damon bucked against Klaus' hold once more. Klaus could see the burning hatred in Damon's eyes and he couldn't help but smirk to himself. Damon would fight the calming effects of his words, unaware that his body needed its mate.

Damon swallowed a mouthful of blood.

That was all that was needed. The bite wound instantly began to close and colour flooded Damon's cheeks once again. Damon continued to struggle and this time Klaus let him go. The other vampire fell back onto the bed panting, his blue eyes wide with shock and a hint of fear. "K-Klaus." A red blush stained the other vampire's cheeks. No doubt to do with the memory dream. It was only through centuries of schooling the perfect expression that Klaus didn't smirk. "Why?"

Klaus stood. If he left now, when Damon was calm, he would be less likely to panic upon seeing him again. "I couldn't let my lovely die, could I?"

**Don't You Remember **

Damon didn't understand the hallucination that he'd had. It was an hallucination – he refused to admit that he could have been dreaming about the other vampire. So he tried to forget about. He pushed it to the back of his mind.

Reluctantly, he apologised to Alaric. It took a bit of persuasion, but the history teacher agreed to go to the Grill. So long as Damon paid. A few drinks later and they were back to their usual banter – the snapped neck forgotten. Everything had gone alright, until he'd felt eyes on the back of his head. Stupidly he'd turned around.

And his evening had been ruined.

Brown eyes stared back at him. They lacked emotion beside the cold, calculating glare in them. Damon turned back around. He tried to ignore the glare. But he couldn't. Instead Ric and he had left. It hadn't taken much. Just pointing Klaus out to Alaric had made the history teacher finish his drink and stumble to the door.

Surprisingly, Klaus had let them go.

**Don't You Remember**

He clutched the hiker to his body, and growled lowly as he swallowed the thick, life giving blood. Stupidly, Damon hadn't fed since Klaus had saved his life. He tried to tell himself that he hadn't wanted to feed. But that was bullshit. Even Stefan had said so.

A few days had passed since the werewolf bite had healed. Over that time Damon had seen more and more of Klaus. But they hadn't talked. They hadn't fought. They hadn't even growled at one another. The hybrid just continued to watch him.

At the thought of the hybrid, Damon fed harder. The hiker's heartbeat was slowing to a dangerous level but he didn't care. He needed this. Damon needed to fell something. Reluctantly, he'd admitted to himself that his body felt colder. A lot colder. It was as if he could never be warm again.

The coldness only disappeared when he was around the Original. And that sucked.

_Crack._

Damon stiffened at the noise. The hiker fell from his grasp. A dull thud came when the barely breathing body hit the floor. He turned in the direction the noise had come from. Nothing was there. But he didn't pass it off as an animal. That would be far too easy.

"Fancy meeting you here." Damon growled lowly as he recognised the voice. He turned and saw Klaus leaning against a tree, his legs crossed at the ankles. "My, you're a messy eater today. You weren't like that when we fed together," Klaus said softly. His eyes lingered on Damon's blood stained lips.

The younger vampire didn't know why, but he felt the need to clean up after himself. For some reason he felt the need to prove himself to the elder. Swallowing back his pride, Damon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He retracted his fangs too. And stood straighter. And pushed the hiker to the side with his foot. "We were never together," Damon spat. "Maybe your need to make hybrids has fucked you up? That can happen to psychopaths. They hallucinate over time."

Damon wasn't sure what affect his words had on Klaus. The other vampire hid his emotions too well. Instead, Klaus covered them with anger and cold eyes. "In that case, I'm not the only one who's hallucinating." Klaus pushed himself away from the tree and slowly came towards Damon. It reminded Damon of a predator stalking its prey. He didn't like the image that created.

He stood his ground though. Gritting his teeth, he said: "What hallucinations? I don't know what you mean."

By now, the hybrid was only inches away. Damon could feel his cool breath ghosting over his neck. When Klaus rested a hand on his shoulder, Damon flinched. Klaus ignored it. Any emotion he felt, he covered it with those steely brown eyes that gave nothing away. "I spent four months with you, Damon. I learnt your body and your facial expressions. I learnt you. And the good thing about that is that I know when you're lying."

Klaus was too close. But Damon wouldn't back down. He couldn't do that. "Maybe I am lying? Maybe I'm not." The words were said low and quiet, but Damon knew the other could hear them. "But I'm not the one insisting we were together."

Damon never anticipated how fast Klaus could react. His back hit a tree trunk and the hybrid was pressed against his front, his teeth grazing Damon's neck. Blunt teeth pressed into Damon's flesh – immobilizing him. The act played on Damon's instincts, told him that the other was more powerful and had complete control. Life and death. For a moment the other would hold his life in his hands. Klaus could have the decision over whether he lived or not.

"You dare to say something like that when your memory is fractured?" Klaus pressed up against him, and when Damon began to squirm, he pressed his teeth to Damon's flesh once more. "When you can't remember the nights we spent together, our bodies pressed against each other? When you can't remember the times I would dominate you and make you feel things you'd never felt before? When you can't remember the times when you became putty in my hands, when you begged for me to take you?" Klaus chuckled against Damon's neck. The action made Goosebumps arise on Damon's skin. "If I were you, _mate_, I wouldn't be so quick to assume that we were nothing…" Klaus trailed off and smirked.

Seconds later, Damon was alone in the forest.

**Don't You Remember**

They'd thought of a way to kill Klaus. It was foolish and stupid. It wouldn't work. Damon had said all this. No one would listen. Because Elena's safety was paramount, no matter how many others perished in the process.

And it was made worse, because Damon knew one way the entire problem could be solved. If they fed Elena blood, snapped her neck and fed her blood again then there would be nothing that anyone could do. Elena would be a vampire – so her blood wouldn't be of any use to Klaus. But they couldn't do that to her. Not when Stefan was so hung up on her being human.

When Damon had suggested it, Stefan had stormed from the room.

Judge-y had glared at him and Elena had looked conflicted: probably thinking of Damon's easy solution and the cost it might be to stay human. Caroline had just joked about it. But that was Caroline; she made the best of every situation. In a way, Damon sort of liked her. She wasn't as bad as she was when she was human.

But the worst was Alaric's silence. He was the only human that could kill Klaus by using the dagger and the white oak ash. Even with his ring, they all knew there would be little chance that he would actually survive.

But no one seemed to care.

Not if Elena could live.

**Don't You Remember**

Damon tossed and turned on his bed. Hallucinations (they were not dreams! Not about that bastard) of Klaus and him together continued to haunt him.

_ "Can I move yet?" Damon whined as he continued to lie at the awkward angle on the couch. He couldn't even see Klaus. The other vampire was hidden behind the large canvas, and only peered around to have another look at Damon._

_ "No." There was no room for arguing and Damon sighed and rolled his eyes. How long could it take to paint him? "Is it so bad that I want to do this?"_

_ Damon growled at him and scowled. When Klaus disappeared behind the canvas again, Damon moved silently and reached over to one of the nearest paint pots. He dipped his fingers in the cool pink paint. Before Klaus could rebuke him for moving, Damon was back in his original position. _

_ He couldn't hide his smirk when Klaus glared at him. Instead, he flicked his fingers at the vampire – firing pink paint at him. Tiny splatters covered the other vampire's face. _

_ Moments later, the canvas was forgotten. _

_ By the end of it all, they both decided that painting each other's bodies was more fun. _

Damon sat up in bed, his blue eyes wide. He ran a hand through his hair. Not again. He couldn't have been thinking of Klaus again… But every hallucination seemed too real, almost as if he'd lived through it. If he couldn't remember, it meant that he hadn't lived it, right?

_"You dare to say something like that when your memory is fractured?"_ Klaus' words ran thought Damon's mind. As much as he loathed to admit it, perhaps the Original was right? Damon could remember everything. Everything except Klaus. And why would Klaus lie? He had no reason to…

Damon groaned and flopped back down on the bed.

He'd think it all through in the morning.

**Don't You Remember**

Damon ran his hands over the sketches on the mahogany desk. They were sketches of Damon in a variety of poses; some in charcoal and others in pencil. And they were dated. With dates from the past. With the dates that Damon couldn't remember. He frowned and flicked through a few more. How would Klaus get these if they weren't together? Damon's frown deepened and he stared at the sketches in confusion.

It couldn't be right, could it? Klaus and he? He shook his head and turned away from the desk. Every night he had been plagued with dreams (Damon had finally accepted them as dreams) but now he wondered if they weren't dreams, but memories. He bit his lip as he thought.

When he sighed, Damon glanced up and his eyes fell on the large group of canvases at the opposite side of the room. He walked over to them slowly, part of him dreading what he would find but part of him also hoping he would be able to piece together his forgotten memories.

Amongst all the other paintings – of wildlife, scenery and Damon – was the one from his dream. It wasn't finished. And it was splattered with dots of pink paint.

"Shame it got ruined, isn't it? But I wouldn't go as far as to call the aftermath a shame."

Klaus' voice didn't startle Damon. He'd been expecting it. The Original was always there. In a way, it was comforting…

For a few seconds they stood looking at each other, neither making a move towards the other.

"I saw that one." Damon pointed to the canvas. "I had an hallucination about it…"

"A dream, _mate,_" Klaus murmured. "Not an hallucination. You're beginning to remember things again."

Damon swallowed thickly but met Klaus' gaze. "Why? Why am I getting them?"

"Your body needs me. It's why you came here, to my home, to seek your answers and not elsewhere. No matter what your conscience thinks, it's your subconscious that matters."

It all added up. The need Damon had felt which had led him to the Mikaelson's mansion. The calming effect that Klaus' voice had on him. The memories and the warm tingling feeling he'd have after reliving them… "You're lying."

"Why would I lie, love?" There was a blur of motion and suddenly Damon was against the nearest convenient wall. Klaus' body pressed against his, each contour of muscle fitting perfectly with Damon's. "You still seem to be in denial. So I'll prove you wrong." Cool hands, colder than his own, wrapped around Damon's wrists, holding them both in one hand.

And Damon didn't even fight. All of his senses were on high alert but he found himself entrapped in the hybrid's gaze. Klaus' other hand rested on Damon's hip, his thump rubbing soothing circles over Damon's hip. "Tell me you don't want this," Klaus murmured. His breath ghosted over Damon's neck. "Tell me right now, and I'll accept your denials."

Damon's lips parted. He didn't know whether it was to protest or to tell Klaus to hurry the fuck up. His eyes roamed over Klaus' looking for any sign of deceit. Damon didn't like the lack of memories. He felt out of control. And he hated it.

He didn't wait. Damon pressed his lips to Klaus'. He felt rather than heard the possessive growl that escaped the other. If it were possible, the elder tried to cover Damon's body further. Possessive. All consuming. Dominating. And Damon let him. He relented and allowed the other to plunder his mouth and take what he wanted. A calmness he hadn't felt since the bite settled within him.

Klaus couldn't remember a time he had felt so alive. Without Damon, the past month had been… There wasn't a word. His temper had flared and more people had been killed that in the past four month combined. Damon somehow calmed him, allowed him to stay grounded. The feel of Damon in his arms, and hearing the growls of satisfaction again… He felt the vampire within Damon begin to shift and surface, he saw his mate's eyes darken and the familiar capillaries appear.

Klaus pulled away, revelling in the snarl of disappointment that came from Damon.

"So tell me, love. Tell me, straight to my face, that there is nothing between us?"

"You talk too much."

**Don't You Remember **

"Damon, you're to go with Alaric. I know he has the ring, but the extra protection won't be bad." Stefan said. It was just the two of them in the room. They'd forced Elena to go out and attempt to have a normal life.

"What if Ric gets killed? Has his neck snapped?" An odd pang went through his heart. He didn't know whether it was talking about Ric's death or Klaus' that caused it. Maybe both. Old age was turning him soft.

"Then you know what to do…" Stefan trailed off. They both knew what that meant. If Alaric failed, then Damon would use the dagger. And both he and Klaus would die together.

A fucked up Romeo and Juliet.

**Don't You Remember **

Damon watched as his best friend's neck was snapped. Klaus hadn't even thought twice about it. He'd done it slowly, so he could hear the tiny bones creaking and cracking before the final twist. Like a coward, Damon had stayed in the shadows. He'd been instructed not to be seen. That way, Klaus wouldn't expect to be daggered by him-

"You can come out now, Damon." Klaus turned, his gaze landing on the shadows where Damon hid. There was no emotion on Klaus' face. It was such a contrast to the desire Damon had seen only a week prior.

He flitted towards Klaus, the dagger poised. It was now or never. He couldn't afford to think. Damon couldn't listen to the screaming in his mind. He couldn't buckle under the phantom pains that lanced his body. He couldn't stop, because if he did, he'd never be able to kill his mate. Elena had to be safe…

Klaus caught his wrist. "Who would have known it would have come to this." The words echoed around Damon's head. They sounded oddly familiar. But he couldn't remember where from. "Two mates, both destined to be together, kill each other. Klaus chuckled. There was no humour to it. "You really are the crazy, impulsive vampire that I knew about." Those words sounded familiar too.

The dagger in his hand began to shake.

"Go on. Do it. At least that way your brother can be happy with the girl he loves. Why everyone destroys their own happiness for her, I don't know…"

Damon's fingers ached to let the dagger fall from his hand.

Slowly Klaus removed his hand from Damon's wrists. His brown eyes met Damon's. There was nothing in them other than an haunting acceptance. "Go on, mate. Do it."

A shudder racked Damon's body. He dropped the dagger to the floor and gripped his temples. In front of him, he felt Klaus move. A cool hand was placed on his back. Soothing circles that didn't help were drawn on his skin. His breathing hitched. It was like a dam had been burst.

Memories flooded Damon's mind and he cried out in pain. The first time they met. In the Grill. The night they had spent together. The times when they would argue, when each would try and assert their dominance over the other. It was all coming back. Everything. From the tiny minute details of Klaus preferring tea over coffee to the large more emotional and sentimental things like sharing blood.

He staggered and Klaus caught him.

"What is it, Damon?"

"Everything. I remember everything."

And for once, Klaus didn't bother to hide his emotions. The relief was evident on his face.

**Don't You Remember **

Alaric had woken up. Klaus hadn't removed his ring. Stefan and Elena had blamed Damon for not being able to finish the job. Apparently his death wouldn't have mattered much to them. In the end, Damon had snapped. He'd stormed from the boarding house, destroying priceless antiques along the way.

"What are you thinking about?" Klaus asked from the driver's seat of Damon's Camaro. They crossed Wickery Bridge.

"Just things, that's all." Damon smirked. "How long before we get to New Orleans?"

**Hey up! Not sure about this one! The ending is a bit crappy but I didn't know how else to round it off. Anyhow, all your comments are welcomed and all reviews are loved! Unless their flames…but there was enough warnings for you not to flame. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this! Please review!**

**The Nutty One xx**


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